Growing Old, a Poem

The years that piled on, piled on, too quickly now…translated…

Rain’s not a Problem, Nor the Cold

Go Make the Beds, the Heat’s Fine as Well

Waking Up without Trouble

Falling Asleep without Fail

Those Leaves that Couldn’t Withstand the Bright Sunlight Had, Turned White

The Hands, Roughed Up by Washing One Too Many Times

And, Man Become, Old

The Faces, No Longer Clean, You Thought of Your Face

The Hands, No Longer, Perfect, Reminded You of, Your Hands

like this??? Found online

I’d Learned, to Grow Old Too

Age, My Eyes

Age, My Heart

I’d Already Faced Old

So, Bring it On, Old Age

So, this is on, being mentally prepared for getting older, then, as the changes of old age comes to you physically, you’re better prepared, for the years.